


“So... I'm in love with a Super Villain...”

by Beware_The_Tristero



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Loki, Alpha Phil Coulson, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BAMF Loki, BAMF Maria Carbonell, Explicit Language, Howard Stark Is a Dick, Iron Man is his Vlogging Alias, M/M, Misunderstandings, Miðgarðr | Midgard, Multi, My Boyfriend's an Alien, Nick Fury is a Dick... Until he isn't, No Powers Tony Stark, Omega Bucky Barnes, Omega Clint Barton, Omega Tony Stark, Protective Loki, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Fail, Sexist Language, Sexist Society, Super Villain Loki, The Chitauri are Space Pirates, The feels..., Their Love Is So, Tony Stark is a mechanic, Trauma, alternative universe, more TBA - Freeform, rating could go up, Ásgarðr | Asgard (realm)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6592093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beware_The_Tristero/pseuds/Beware_The_Tristero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Tony Carbonell is an omega, a social butterfly (just as his late mother would have wanted) and a mechanic whose genius is becoming the talk of New York’s luxury car circuit. He’s also completely in love with a man called Luke Vargrson (who is refreshingly unlike any alpha he’s ever met); yep, life couldn’t be too much sweeter for the freshly turned twenty-five year old...</p><p>Until he learned that the guy he was so desperate to marry was not only an <i>alien Prince</i> but the leader of an interstellar crime syndicate known and feared across Earth as The Chitauri...</p><p>Or</p><p>Nick Fury is a dick and his super-secret boy-band of <i>super-heroes</i> need to work on their public relations skills; who the fuck is Howard Stark, anyway, and why won’t he quit staring?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It starts with a BANG...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own (or claim to own) any of the characters featured or used in this non-profit piece of fan-fiction. I am merely using them/their likenesses and settings for my own enjoyment (and hopefully the enjoyment of others).
> 
> So... this bunny bit me and wouldn't die until I wrote it... This, plus real life and my other stories = eh? Who cares? So long as we're all having fun right? Am I right?
> 
> I am right!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (More updates are on the way; last week I faced work-hell so this week I should have more time for the most important things in life... like writing omega!Tony Smut...)
> 
> XD

Stretching with a yawn, his shoulders popping in all the _wrong_ places, Tony slowly unfurled himself from the beautifully re-mastered 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California Spider, his fingers lingering on the engine he’d been lovingly fawning over for the past hour or so.

“Ah... the amazing _Iron Man_ strikes again.”

Snorting, the omega cast his golden gaze across his expansive (if more than slightly cluttered) work-shop to see his investor leering predatorily at the car; if the alpha before him had been a cartoon then Tony was certain there’d be little dollar signs in his eyes.

“That’s what you pay me for, boss.”

“Pay you? Hah! Now there’s a laugh... if it wasn’t for this bullshit law against omegas’ owning their own businesses then you’d be rolling in so much dough that _I’d_ look like a pauper” the older man said, his sharp blue eyes narrowed angrily before they locked with Tony’s and he offered a playful smile. “Although... I suppose our society’s equality issues aren’t _so_ bad since I get to ogle someone like you whilst you work... those jeans and that smudge of oil on your cheek should be criminal, young man” he chuckled.

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Tony offered Vernon Van Dyne a wink; “don’t let Jan hear you talk like that, boss, you know how much she hates you shopping around for younger models” he warned with a grin, his left hand swiping a clean rag off his tool-trolley.

“Bah! That girl never lets me have any fun... do you know what her latest plan for me is? Vegetarianism! Can you imagine?” the old alpha sighed whilst carefully picking his way through the discarded articles which littered the floor, his walking stick knocking a sprocket or two out of the way. 

“Oh yeah, heaven forbid that your teenage daughter wants to keep you alive and healthy for as long as possible” the omega quipped, his tone peppered with sarcasm as he swiped at his face before casting another critical glance over the bowels of his latest master-piece.

“Gah! You young people today and your ridiculously health-conscious attitudes; don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t tan! What next, I ask you? What more can all of these quacks spoil?” he grumbled, a gloved hand gently stroking the fresh paint-job whilst letting out an appreciative hum. “At least driving luxury cars hasn’t gone out of style, eh?” he asked with a grin, his pale eyes now wandering over the immaculate craftsmanship within. “By God you do good work... self-taught my ass! One of these days you’ll tell me who your mentor was, won’t you?” he continued whilst tapping the engine. “I swear, I’ve been in this business for over thirty years and _never once_ have I come across a mechanic who can do a better job than the good folks who first put a beaut like this together” he praised with a chuckle.

Trying to fight the blush (he’d never been great at receiving praise), Tony simply grinned, his mouth opening to rebuke the alpha before, much to their shared horror, the double doors to his work-shop _exploded_ open, the blast ringing in their ears as three people burst in through the smoke.

“Anthony Carbonell! Step away from the vehicle and keep your hands where we can see them” the man in the world’s most convincing Captain America costume he’d ever seen yelled whilst his fellow cosplayers (Black Widow and Hawkeye) sprinted towards him.

“Is this some kind of belated birthday joke?” Tony half-yelled over the squealing in his ears, his eyes widening when the femme all but leapt at him, her hands brandishing a pair of hand-cuffs which were swiftly (and painfully) snapped onto his wrists.

“What in the world is the meaning of this!?” the oldest member of the room yelled as the blonde omega approached them, his blue gaze (a clear sign that he was mated) narrowed angrily as he forcefully pushed Tony against the car and (somehow) tightened the cuffs at the small of his back.

“Oww! Oww! Hey! What the fuck is your problem?”

“This is ridiculous! Tony, don’t worry, I’m calling my lawyer...”

“That won’t be necessary, Mr Van Dyne” the blue clad alpha called as Hawkeye pulled him back up and ordered him to move. “Mr Carbonell is being detained by Shield under terrorism charges” he added sternly, his eyes almost as narrowed as the omega who was roughly pushing him forward.

“Terrorism?!”

“This is outrageous! Just you _wait_ until my people get a hold of our CCTV footage! I’ll ensure you’re charged and reprimanded for assault if nothing else!” the former scientist snarled whilst Tony tripped and grumbled his way through the cars he was working on, his eyes blinking in the dust as he tried not to flinch at the pressure strengthening on his arms.

“Hey, d’you mind? I’m not putting up any resistance...”

“If I were you” Hawkeye ground out, his expression murderous. “I’d keep my _mouth_ shut... but, if you’re looking to give me an excuse...” he trailed off threateningly, his hands giving another firm squeeze to Tony’s bound wrists.

“Stand-down” the Widow ordered as they walked out and onto a now _not so busy_ New York high-street, the three Shield Agents that’d been posted outside of the Garage lowering their weapons and following behind them. “Here’s our ride” she added when, to Tony’s dawning horror, a black van swerved up to the side-walk whilst a few on-lookers (smart-phones rapidly snapping and filming away) gasped and yelled as the sliding door shot open.

“You’re making a mistake! I don’t even...Ooph!”

Landing with a thump on the sparsely carpeted floor, Tony could only yelp and squirm when the betas already inside the vehicle moved to secure his legs and gag him before the momentum of the van speeding away had them take their seats and leave him to flop around like a fish out of water.

“Mr Carbonell?”

Blinking and grunting curses through the tape that sealed his lips (and would probably destroy his finely clipped goatee when removed), Tony looked up at the man riding shot-gun as he turned the chair to view him. Raising a brow, the omega would have laughed if not for the shock and threat of violence and everything for, as that singular eye glared down at him, the younger man just couldn’t believe that he’d been abducted by a pirate who had a Matrix coat fetish.

“My name is Director Nick Fury and, on a personal note, I _really_ must commend you on what a fantastic job you’ve done in keeping yourself concealed from us... It isn’t everyday that someone of your standing in the criminal under-world can masquerade as a civilian so convincingly.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony grunted as they went over a pot-hole, his body jarring and sliding against the coarse texture of the carpet.

“However, I’m pleased to say that this little game of hide and seek is at an end and, if you’d like the Judge to go easier on you, may I suggest that you give us your full cooperation and tell us everything you know about Loki’s dealings with Doom and where the Chitauri are currently based” he said, his smile unkind. 

“I would hate to see what might become of you should you choose to do otherwise...”


	2. Revelations...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1... or wherever it is I've hidden it...
> 
> XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I've not had a chance to proof read this thoroughly (do I ever?), which means that I'll be having an edit when I can...
> 
> You'll notice that this is pretty dialogue heavy BUT I wanted to capture a sense of panic...
> 
> I hope that y'all like it!

Feeling as though he’d just been dumped into a terrible re-imagining of CSI, Tony found the black-sack covering his head of very little comfort as the van came to a halt after what felt like _hours_ of driving, his body easily lifted by the disturbingly quiet betas and carried out.

Strangely, the young omega could only make it the sounds of foot-steps and vehicles resounding around him; this, of course, meant that he was either in some kind of ware-house (which was quite likely) or an underground garage (the most likely). Neither of these two places weren’t ideal _but_ at least it wasn’t an air-craft hangar... or the Manhattan Bridge; Tony’d seen enough Mafia movies to know that being driven to a bridge was _never_ a good thing... 

“Take Mr Carbonell to holding-cell four and tell Agent Coulson he can begin without me... Hawkeye’s little stunt in front of the cameras is a head-ache I didn’t need, God-damnit...” he heard the Director grunt as his baby-sitters carried him to what was probably a wheel-chair.

Huffing as he was _literally_ dropped into the seat, Tony couldn’t even rearrange himself into a more comfortable position for, much to his continued annoyance, the Shield Agents bound him to the chair and wheeled him away at speed.

Then, a few jerky turns, marching boots and PA system announcements later, Tony was sitting before the blandest looking alpha he’d ever seen; they were in an off-white room, standard two-way mirror resting and at standing height behind the balding man and, aside from a polished table between them and the door, nothing else was visible. Not even an air-vent which, although it ruled the horrifying little poison-gas scenario that’d been playing around his mind out, was kind of creepy none the less.

“Mr Carbonell...”

“Shield guy” he countered glumly, his still stinging lips twitching whilst he rolled his shoulders and shuffled within the wheel-chair.

Smiling banally, the alpha leaned forward a touch, his hands becoming visible whilst he stippled his fingers and contemplated the omega as though he were a particularly interesting bug pinned to his dissection-board.

“Is it your intention to be difficult?”

“Is it _your_ intention to go for the whole _guilty before proven innocent_ ploy?”

Smile still in place, the epitome of calm made flesh gave a barely perceptible nod; at the motion, the table lit up and a holo-screen filled the air between them... Tony would have been impressed and desperate to get his hands on the Stark Tech so enticingly spread before him if it weren’t for the whole abduction thing.

“For the record, can you please confirm the following information...”

“Don’t I at least get a lawyer? No one’s read me my Miranda Rights and I’m _pretty_ sure that I'm entitled to a phone call...”

“Your full name is Anthony Gregory Carbonell, is this correct?”

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Tony offered a glare to the alpha before trying to sit-up a little straighter; what did he have to lose?

“Yep.”

“Your birthday is...”

“May 29th... which, no prizes for guessing, was _last week_. I had a great party with some awesome food in case you were wondering...”

“Your current age is twenty-five and your marital status is single...”

“ _Engaged_ , actually” the brunette interjected, his glare narrowing when the Agent’s face momentarily flickered with an emotion of some kind before his smile dropped all together and he leaned even further forward. 

“This is a recent development?”

“Err... yeah” Tony dead-panned. “Luke proposed to me on my birthday...”

“Luke Vargrson?”

“Oh my God!” the shorter of the pair suddenly yelled, his eyes narrowing angrily as he jolted in his bonds. “Don’t tell me that you fuckers have got him locked up somewhere too? What the hell is this, anyway? What’s going on? It’s not a crime for an alpha and omega to get married before they’re mated now, is it?!” he all but yelled, his mouth opening to spit out a curse or two before the door burst open and Fury stormed in.

“No, Mr Carbonell, we _don’t_ have your _darling_ fiancée locked up somewhere... Or, at least we don’t have him _yet_ ” the Director snarled, his trench-coat swirling in his ire. 

Glaring his golden eyes into the singular auburn one that bore-down on him, Tony felt, for the first time, a genuine sense of fear tripping down his spine: “what in the hell is your problem?” he breathed waspishly. “Luke is an antiques dealer... he’s got his green-card for fuck’s sake! I’ve seen it... don’t tell me that the Government is so desperate to lock up mutants and deport immigrants that the President is sanctioning the likes of _Shield_ to do the job” he added nastily. 

“Oh! Stop with the playing cute routine Mr Carbonell! I’m not buying it, Agent Coulson isn’t buying it and the _second_ I get approval from the Council your ass is going to be hauled to the worst maximum security prison I can find with a vacancy and you’ll be left to rot there until...”

“Director Fury...”

Releasing the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, Tony felt his body slowly relaxing as the intimidating figure of the alpha spun to view a femme standing at the door, her posture that of a soldier at parade rest whilst the other alpha across from his whipped out his cell-phone and regarded it with a scowl.

“Agent Hill, I thought that I said...”

“With respect, sir, this can’t wait” she said primly before moving away; giving Tony one final, dead-eyed glance, the Director exited as swiftly as he entered, the door slamming behind him.

“You’re only digging yourself into deeper trouble, Mr Carbonell...”

Blinking, the omega turned his full attention back to the man who’d just been dubbed _Coulson_ , his eyebrows rising into his hair-line when the other held out his phone, the screen displaying a Shield base, from the looks of it, under attack from those god-awful space cockroaches.

“Umm... why are you showing me this?” he asked, his eyes scanning for anything important or to do with his life. “Those crazy pirates are always making a ruckus somewhere...”

“That _somewhere_ happens to be twenty-two stories above our current location, Mr Carbonell” the Agent stated blandly. “I believe that it is _you_ whom they’re coming for...”

“Me?!” the omega gasped incredulously. “That is some grade-A bullshit you’re selling there...”

“Oh?” the blue eyed male cut in. “Certainly, if I were in Loki’s place and my intended had been caught by my enemies...”

“Loki?” Tony blurted, his face awash with confusion. “What the hell has the ol’bag of cats Norse God got to do with me?” he queried, his head cocking to the side; he shouldn’t have found the dawning sense of horror on the alpha’s face funny, he supposed, but he’d had a long ass day... And were those explosions he could hear?

“You don’t know...” the Agent breathed, his eyes flitting from a monitor on the holo-screen that seemed to be assessing Tony’s vitals and back to the bound man watching him like an owl would confusing prey. 

“Don’t know _what_?” he ground out, another boom echoing in the not too distant distance. 

Carefully standing and approaching the omega, Phil began to undo the leather straps before working on the cuffs: “I’m sorry that you should have to find out like this, Mr Carbonell, but Luke Vargrson is not the man you think he is...” he stated whilst helping the rapidly blinking male to stand.

“His true alias, or rather, his _true name_ is Loki Odinson...” he said, his expression grim.

“And I shouldn't have to tell you what that means...”


	3. To Be Loki, Or Not to Be Loki... Now that IS the Question...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I've written one... it is _somewhere_...

Running through cement forged tunnels with flashing-red distress lights and blaring alarms was _not_ how Tony had thought he’d be spending this afternoon.

“Oh my God!” he called over the din, his hand wildly gesturing to someone who’d just joined their tunnel from up ahead.

“Is that Dr Bruce Banner? _The_ Dr Bruce Banner?” he asked an eerily focused Coulson as he pointed to the mop of dark curls sprinting ahead of them, his body partially obscured by a crowd of very anxious looking Shield Agents.

“Yes... but...”

“I **love** that guy!” Tony crowed, his golden eyes following the swift, jerky movements of the man he _not so_ secretly idolised. “Did you know that his work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled? Oh, and I'm a huge fan of the way he loses control and turns into a giant, green rage-monster” he added, his smirk becoming manic whilst he and Coulson continued to dog the other’s movements.

“I’ll be sure to let him know that when this is over” the Agent stated wryly, his eyes flitting from the corridor, to Tony, his phone and the corridor again.

“So... where are we going, anyway?” the omega asked, his eyes narrowing on the older man. “’Cus, let’s say that you’re right and that Luke, my nerdy, geeky, shy-British antiques dealer _is_ the God of Shits and Giggles” he continued as another loud _boom_ echoed throughout the complex. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to let the Chitauri get me? It’d certainly save you some property damage...”

“You cannot be serious” the alpha jogging next to him all but dead-panned. “That man is...”

“My fiancée, according to you” the brunette retorted with a huff. “If you’re right and Shield’s most famous masked-man is my intended, then what have you got to lose?” he furthered, his pace slowing to the point where the older man went to (unsuccessfully; he was quick, god-damn-it) snatch his arm. 

“Tony, Loki is an alien-Prince, a pirate and mage with a list of criminal activity as long as an air-strip” he reminded whilst they came to a stop in the corridor still crawling with black-suited personnel. “I can’t, in good conscience or otherwise, allow him to...”

“What? You think he’d hurt me?” the younger partially growled, his frown deepening. “Listen pal, I know that you’ve got the best of intentions and everything...” he stated calmly, his hands gesturing to the controlled panic milling around them. “But you don’t know him like I do... if Luke _is_ Loki, he isn’t trying to con me or use me or anything... I’m a mechanic from the lower-east side, as much as my accent might not show it thanks to Ma, but other than that, I’m a nobody. What could I possibly give him in terms of global domination, huh?”

“That is beside the point” the alpha sighed, his fingers flying across the touch screen of his phone whilst he tried to stare the omega down. “Mr Carbonell ( _"Tony"_ )... Tony, I'll be frank with you here" he stated with a sigh whilst coaxing the omega to follow him at a more sedate pace regardless of the calamity swirling around them. "Thanks to Stark Industries latest tech, we _believe_ that we’ve finally mapped Loki’s DNA signature and that signature just so happened to be found in New York, at your work-shop and apartment... that's the only reason you were brought here” he stated, his lips drawing a firm but neutral line. “We were hoping that there’d be a link we could expose between you and him, that _you_ would be able to tell us if Luke Vargrson and Loki Odinson were one in the same... Hell, we even had his brother look at the **one** piece of grainy CCTV footage we were able to find of the pair of you together and that's what prompted your, umm, _removal_ from your work-place” he added through a sigh. “According to Thor, your Luke and his Loki were all but identical in a facial sense... but, of course, with your added testimony which passed the world's most advanced lie-detecting technology, that doesn’t necessarily mean...”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it” Tony ground out. “Loki is a spell caster and illusionist who could have spotted Luke and used him for cover or something” he said, a scattering of dust gushing between them as the explosions grew louder and ever closer. “So... where are we going?”

Pointing towards a set of rapidly opening doors to their immediate left, the older man stated: “that is Agent Woodrow and Agent Sanderson” he informed as Tony was swiftly and suddenly bundled into (thankfully not bound or gagged this time) another non-descript, unimaginative cliché of a black van.

“They’ll take you to a safe...”

“What?! Why the hell aren’t I going back to my apartment?” he demanded before, much to his chagrin, the sliding door slammed shut and he was unceremoniously thrust into a chair and belted in by the two betas who may or may not have been those he’d _met_ earlier but... given their generic faces, poses and lack of _sparkling_ conversation, it was hard to hell.

“Man, you guys suck...” he griped as Discount Storm-Trooper #1 strapped himself next to Tony whilst Feckless Flunky #2 deftly vaulted over the driving seats to claim the shot-gun position.

“I’ve been wrongfully accused and _imprisoned-d-d-_ he stuttered as the vehicle roared to life and sped forward at break-neck speed. “Then I’m... woah... then I’m _hey_! Hey! What the fuck is your problem Speed Racer?!” he yowled, his golden gaze narrowed angrily as they took corners like they were auditioning for the latest ‘Fast and Furious’ movie. 

“Please remain seated, Mr Carbonell” his bored sounding back-seat-buddy instructed when the omega went to loosen the safety-belt that was nearly strangling him.

“Please remain seated, my ass!” he snapped, his right hand gesturing to the wind-screen as the van reared out of the maze of tunnels they’d nearly died in, the light of the mid-day sun dim in the tinted glass and plumes of smoke which stalked the road. “Listen _pal_ , it’s bad enough that I’ve had my day fucked up, I don’t wanna _die_ thanks to some desk-jockey trying to break the sound barrier in a van that sounds like my asthmatic grandma!” he spat. “I’ve been wheeled through your _hell_ of an office and then ran back out as though that Coulson-guy had found a cure for male-pattern baldness or something...” 

“Would you prefer to be sedated?”

“Huh?!”

“Don’t bother asking Alan, just fuckin’ tranq the hen, will ya?” the driver commented, his hands roughly turning the wheel as they narrowly avoided being hit by something that blasted the asphalt to the right of them. “It’s his fucking fault we’re in this mess...”

“The hell, man!” Tony yelled, his wild eyes flitting from Agent to Agent, his glare zeroing onto their hands to check for needles of chloroformed rags.

“This is your boy-friend’s handywork, Carbonell” the driver shouted back, the tyres of the veering vehicle screeching. 

“How the fuck do you know that, huh? Loki wears a mask over the bottom half of his face and has long black hair...”

“He’s a _fucking_ illusionist you moron! God! If it wasn’t for Fury’s orders I’d pull over and let those damned monsters have you...”

“Don’t go doing me any favours you piece of...”

“ **Look out!!** ”

Screaming in unison, the brakes wailing in their ears, all four men had no time to brace for impact as a hulking Chituari landed directly before the van, its shoulder bolstered and ready to propel their transport up and into the air... which it did.

Yelping as the van skidded on its roof across the ground, Tony felt his stomach travel around his rib-cage, his legs dangling in front of his eyes uselessly whilst the Agents groaned and worked to right themselves; it seemed pretty pointless to the omega, really, especially since four space-pirates had already breached the van.

“Get Carbonell out of there!”

Blinking, Tony turned as _Alan_ reached for him; he figured he must have a concussion or be in shock or something because, almost comically, the Agent was flung backwards in slow-motion. However, time soon righted itself when a hand larger than his chest grabbed him and pulled him out of his seat with all the ease of a bird plucking up a worm.

Well... fuck...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on guys... you know you love my cliff-hangers really...
> 
> Right? Guys?
> 
> Guys?!
> 
> XD
> 
> In other news, I'm up for a promotion at work... which has meant preparing for the interview/performing tasks, yadyad...
> 
> So, sorry for up-date delays! I know a lot of you are anxious for the next instalments TMP/TTSOS etc...
> 
> I'm working on it and should update at least one this weekend : )
> 
> P.S.
> 
> No... not Alan... I love that guy?


	4. So... I'm In Love with a Super Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I did write one...
> 
> Sorry that it's short guys; I just really wanted to post before going out to celebrate my promotion : )
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to my awesome well-wishers! This chapter is for you! (I hope that you're not too disappointed!)
> 
> I promise that I will now set time purposefully aside for continuing with my stories and will endeavour to make all chapters longer and more satisfying!
> 
> Oh, and to the amazing Jazzy_Jane, TTSOS update is coming and the next chapter will be in your honour!
> 
> Thanks so much guys!
> 
> More updates will be coming very soon! 
> 
> XD

Screaming (not like a little girl; he was a grown-ass man, god-damn-it!), Tony clutched to large, green fingers as the Hulk bounced around the high-way with him along for the ride; all the omega could do was screw his eyes shut and pray that the laser blasts flying around him wouldn’t hit them.

“ _I-don’t-wanna-die... I-don’t-wanna-die... I-don’t-wanna-die...!!_ ” he found himself howling as the behemoth vaulted over a pile-up of several cars, the Chitauri hot on their heels as he was waved around like a rodeo-rope, the sound of explosions, screaming civilians and alien-hover craft zooming overhead making for a terrifying backing track.

“Hulk protect tiny-omega!” the green creature promised, his huge body travelling at a speed Tony _knew_ defied the laws of physics for a person of his size. “Hulk **smash** stupid Chitauri!”

“O-oh... I... believe yy-you... big-guy-y-y” the brunette answered, his empty stomach clenching in sympathy when the giant carrying him spun around, his other hand effortlessly snagging and tossing a Chitauri close to his huge size into the opposite lane of the high-way.

“W-where... t-thh... –elll... we goin...?” he gasped out over an exploding SUV to his right.

“Safe place!” the jade coloured super-hero assured, his gigantic head thrusting in the direction of... Oh shit... was _that_ a Quinjet? A _Stark Industries_ Quinjet? 

“Holy shit!” he vocalised. “-I- have a-always w-w-anted to... **_W-ho-ly-f-u-ck!!_** ”

This time his scream _definitely_ held elements of pre-pubescent femme as the Hulk came to a jarring stop with an enraged bellow, his grip on Tony tightening protectively whilst he stared down at the figure that’d _magically_ appeared on the asphalt, a green cape swirling in his wake.

“Puny-God!” the monstrous hero snarled, the arm holding Tony jerking back in an attempt to keep the omega out of view. “You no touch hen!” he added with a bullish snort as the Chaos Mage looked on with keen, ageless eyes which viewed them shrewdly from beneath the gold-helm he was famed for wearing.

“Dull creature” the Asgardian countered, his words causing the brunette to gawp at him, his golden gaze narrowing in shock. “Release the omega and...”

“Oh my God... Luke? _Luke_ is that...”

Sighing, the ebony haired alpha partially lowered his staff, a flicker of something crossing the only exposed part of his face whilst anarchy continued to reign around them.

“If it means anything at all to you, Anthony, this isn’t how I _planned_ on telling you...”

“So... I’m in love with a super-villain” the younger cut in, his face slackening in disbelief before he started slapping at the huge fist that enveloped him: “let me down, would ya Mr Hyde?” he ground out, his whole body wriggling in an effort to get loose.

“Not safe” the Hulk tried to reason, his round features creasing with confusion as his charge continued to struggle. 

“Yes safe” Tony countered, a spike of venom lacing his tone. “I’m _meant_ to be marrying the guy... now put me the fuck down” he spat, his legs kicking out into the air in a vain attempt to get his way.

“Loki bad...”

“Loki _mate_ ” he hissed, his scowl thunderous. “You keeping me from _my_ mate makes _you_ bad” he argued, his tone brokering no argument and, much to the surprise of both Loki and Tony, the gamma mutant reluctantly lowered his arm and released the olive-skinned omega with a displeased huff.

“Anthony...”

“ _Oh_ , don’t you _Anthony_ me, mister...” the younger (God, now he was wondering by just _how_ many decades, let along centuries) berated, his hands wildly gesturing. “Call off the attack dogs and take us somewhere we can talk, _now_!”

“Should I be even in the slightest bit pleased that you’re taking this far better than I expected?”

“No, you should be _ecstatic_ that the Big Guy over there is better at listening than you are... now come on, knock it off before anyone else gets hurt...”

Relaxing his gait slight whilst regarding the befuddled looking Hulk with a glare which promised death if he interfered, Loki nodded his head, his staff glowing with an ominous blue which had every Chitauri screeching in their native tongue and rushing to their respective hover-craft with their injured. 

Watching dispassionately, Tony offered his green saviour a nod, his lips quirking into a smile: “thanks for the ride BFG... I hope that this doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, you know, later” he stated, his body neither flinching nor leaning in when a long, _familiar_ arm coiled possessively about his waist and pulled him to lean against a deceptively broad chest.

“Loki still **bad** ” the weirdly shrinking hero tried to protest whilst SHIELD vehicles and agents began swamping the area.

“Heh... you let me worry about that, alright?” he answered with grin as the world began to phase out.

Huh... he’d always wanted to know what teleporting felt like...


	5. The truth, the whole truth... so help you God...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have written one...

Well, as it turned out, teleporting _sucked_...

“Won’t you at least let me rub your back?”

Growling a very un-omega like snarl (his mother would be spitting feathers at his behaviour if she could see him), Tony continued to dry-wretch on all fours, his gold eyes glaring daggers into a rich, _unfamiliar_ carpet as he struggled to breath.

“Anthony?”

“It looked so cool on Star Trek” he hissed back, his eyes screwing shut whilst the last butterfly fluttering within his rib-cage kamikazed itself against his gall-bladder. “Although I suppose it’d be quite fun for _aliens_ ” he added, his scowl sharpening as he shakily knelt to level his most unimpressed look at the now mask-less man, his brows furrowed angrily.

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation in my Study...”

“I’ve _met_ your _mom_ Luke! How could you take me to meet your.... oh! Unless that was just **another** lie...”

“No, no I would never...”

“Oh my _God_! Does that mean I met the Queen of _fucking_ Asgard in a cheap-suit I picked off the rail at Sears? Oh... oh **God**... I think I need to sit down, no I need a drink, no I _need_ some fucking... brain-bleach or something...” he muttered, his face a strange mix of mortified horror, fatigue and anger as he regarded the face of his fiancée, his short red hair lost to long, raven tresses. 

He looked so different, and yet exactly the same...

“Anthony?”

“What do I even call you now?” was the raspy response, the lavish surroundings of gold, emerald and obsidian completely lost on the both them as they continued to stare at each other, the few metres between them stretching out into a chasm of thoughts, worries and questions.

Too many questions...

“Ah... I fear asking you to choose what you call me may lead to further troubles” the God reasoned gently, a small, hopeful attempt at humour that, much to his concealed joy, caused a smile to flicker across the twenty five year olds lips. 

“You’re not wrong...” Tony sighed before raising his right hand; “help me up?”

Blinking and momentarily taken aback, the alabaster skinned man moved to swiftly and efficient pull the other to his feet, his hand reluctant to let go as they regarded each other more closely.

“My mother thought that you were thoroughly enchanting, by the way” the Asgardian tried, his thumb gently brushing over the omega’s knuckles whilst he spoke, softly and carefully; “she is still very much looking forward to the wedding...”

“Are you shitting me?” the younger whispered. “You can’t possibly think that...”

“You wish to break off our engagement?”

“I... no, no... I don’t... I don’t _know_ alright?” Tony quipped whilst pulling his hand away and turning to face a wall that, to his disbelief, had one of their favourite photographs blown up and framed upon it. It’d been Luke’s, no, _Loki’s_ alleged first trip to Central Park Zoo and a little, old Chinese femme had perfectly framed them grinning like lunatics by the penguin enclosure. Tony’d been wearing a giraffe ears head-band whilst the alpha toted a penguin-plushie on his shoulder with a matching cap slanted on his head.

God... what he wouldn’t give to have that moment again...

“I understand that this is a lot to take in...”

“D’ya think?!”

“... but what I want you to know, to _realise_ and accept, above all other things, is this” Loki continued, his hand reaching out to lightly brush the still untouched mating glands upon the juncture of Tony’s right shoulder and neck.

“The only lie I **ever** told you was about my true heritage and, of course, everything which follows from that” he breathed, his hope rekindled when the omega didn’t pull away or yell. “My love for you, my desire to be a good husband and mate, to start the family we’ve been talking about... all of **that** is the truth in its purest form...”

“So... so I’m just meant to _forget_ that you’re a Space-Viking? That you lead a bunch of alien marauders who constantly screw over humans like me?”

“I will revoke my leadership as soon as my contract is over...”

“Can you bring back the people who’ve died?”

“I...”

“And the property damage? You got an inter-galactic fund set up to pay for all the stuff you’ve broken to be fixed?”

“Tony...”

“What about everyone’s peace of mind? Can you convince everyone on my back-water little part of the Nine that they’ll be safe from now on? That everything will be okay and they can promise their kids that imminent death won’t be portalling out of the sky on any given Tuesday?” he asked, his face serious, annoyed and deeply, _deeply_ hurt.

“You don’t understand...”

“No, I think it’s _you_ who doesn’t get it, _Loki_ ” the shorter breathed out as he pulled away, turned and locked eyes with the much older creature, his oil-stained hands coiling into fists whilst setting his jaw. “How in the world can I expect you to be a good mate and father when you’re living this way? Do you really think that I’ll, what, sit down with the kids when they ask where you are and say, _’oh, it’s okay guys, Daddy must have got caught up in his last murderous rampage but I’m _sure_ he’ll be home in time for dinner'?_ ” he asked, his tone growing more ragged in his distress. 

“God-damn it! I’m in **love** with you! How the fuck could you do this to me?”

“How could I not!” the Asgardian yelled back, his form moving with an inhuman speed to snatch up and draw the sputtering human against his chest, his arms lacing around the other’s back in a possessive, desperate embrace. “Do you not realise just how much I love you? Can’t you see? Have I not proved it to you time and time again? You are the most precious person in my life...”

“Then **stop** this!” Tony cried, his face pressed into the other’s chest, his own, trembling arms clutching onto the alpha and trying to pull him even closer. “You’re the most precious person in my life too...” he murmured before slowly tilting his head up, his stinging eyes lightly fanning ebony strands. “When you first held me like this... when we were at Mama’s funeral I... I _really_ believed that there was nothing you couldn’t do, that you would protect me from things I didn’t even _know_ I’d need protecting from...”

“And I can... I **will**...”

“Then you have got to _fucking_ talk to me! Tell me about this contract, how you got mixed up in this god-damned mess so we can fix what’s broken... You might not be able to resurrect the dead, but that’s no excuse for more people dying... I... I can’t think of you as a murderer...”

“Then, perhaps, you should think of yourself as one, little-hen... Or, I suppose that may be too _unkind_ since tis your death-loving kin whom is truly the one at fault...”

Yelping, his feet suddenly off the ground whilst the alpha spun him to hide behind the folds of a long, exquisite cape, both alpha and omega looked on with expressions of shock and anger as the latest occupant of the grandiose corridor regarded them coolly.

“ _Other_...”

“W-wait? What... I...”

“Oh little godling, you still have yet to tell him?” the deformed being croaked, it’s gnarled face screwing into something too unfriendly to be a smile; “you, _omega_ , are of very great interest to my Master for your blood runs thick with Stark’s superior DNA” he chuckled cruelly, his beady eyes glinting from beneath a thick, ominous hood.

“Tis the only reason we sent our _boy_ here to court you...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooohh!
> 
> Sorry! Haters' gonna hate and Tristeros' gonna tease...


	6. Twisted Fire-Starter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have written one... somewhere; happy hunting!
> 
> Wow... look at how long this poor baby has been left! Damn you glass of milk! You set me so far back in terms of updates!
> 
> I have changed this fic to Explicit too...
> 
> 'Cus, you know, SMUTs got to feature in this somewhere, right? It's only fair, isn't it?
> 
> ; )
> 
> More updates are on the way!!

By most people’s reasoning, Tony Carbonell had lived through more than his fair share of troubles.

“What? Do my ears deceive me? You have not told your _pretty_ little chit about his lineage yet? My, my, Loki, God of Lies indeed...”

He was born an omega which, given all the laws and bills preventing males of this _precious_ gender from ‘ _further endangering themselves_ ’ (since they were so startlingly rare), meant that he’d be riding a shit-storm even if he was born into wealth and luxury.

“How dare you enter into mine home uninvited! This violates our treaty, you...”

However, thanks to the alpha who sired him being beyond _displeased_ that his heir was essentially a weak, useless woman in disguise, Tony’s mother had been unceremoniously dumped before birthing him. This, coupled with her being a stunning, Italian actress stranded in New York with no friends or family to speak of, had resulted in his early years playing against a back-drop of rat-infested hell-holes, sleazy land-lords and his mother’s beautiful, broken smiles.

“Hah! Treaty? _Treaty_ you say? Listen to yourself _boy_ , you are subject to **his** whim and **he** has waited long enough for this pet to be sent to **him**...”

Sure, things could have been worse; lots of omegas were simply handed over to orphanages or bought by brothels. However his mother, his wonderful mother and the loving show-girls of the Broadway productions who adopted them both over the years ensured that they always had food, shelter and plenty of broken equipment for him to fix.

It had been an unconventional upbringing full of twists and turns, but this...

"Wait... What did he... What is he saying? Luke?"

Scowling darkly whilst carefully and gently moving his mortal over to the side, a clone easily detaching itself to act as vanguard, Loki took a few menacing steps towards his _master's_ favourite attack dog.

"I will stand for no more of this!" he snarled angrily. "For too long have I suffered your whims! I have done _everything_ asked of me and secured three of the gems **he** has sought and yet, where is the crown I was promised? Where are the cowering throngs of mine enemies kneeling before me as King? There are none! Therefore, as you have so often instructed, I have laboured, toiled and contented myself to my lot... At first I found it unbearable, deplorable, and then...” he cut off, his expression softening minutely.

“Then _he_ sent me to find the lost heir to Lady Death’s precious pet-Merchant’s legacy... the tainted lamb he wished to mould... and I did” he added, his taller form now less than a foot away from the seething, hissing _Other_.

“Oh? And what is it that you want in exchange, Godling? A _parade_?” the disfigured creature mocked; “hand the child to me now and I’ll persuade myself not to tell his Lordship of your rudeness, or perhaps you long for the touch of his hand around your neck, you pathetic, _snivelling_... _whumph!_ ”

Roaring possessively, his body moving with all the violent fluidity of a viper, Loki struck out with his staff, his _true_ staff gungnir, and not the cheap, mind-gem tainted sceptre the dark orchestrator of his current fate had provided him with.

“ _ **You will not touch him with your filthy hands**_!” he exclaimed viciously, his green eyes gleaming with seidr: “Anthony is under my protection, he is to be my _mate_ and I shall allow none to harm him, especially not **you**...” he snarled whilst delivering another rapid, jaw-cracking blow. 

“Your _master_...” he continued, his left hand summoning a searing, emerald fire: “or his _beloved_ Mistress!”

Howling in agony, Loki then watched dispassionately as the enchanted blaze he’d summoned, a birthday gift from the demon Surtur from so many years ago, clawed, devoured and rendered the piteous servant limb from limb. It was most satisfying, his sense of justice agreed, to see the bastard dispatched in this way, his crooked, vile body all but consumed by flames not unlike the ones that would continue his persecution in the after-life.

It was a shame, though, to cut his ties so thoroughly with Thanos since having the Chitauri at his command had brought him the attention and notoriety he’d always desired whilst trying to escape the enormity of Thor’s golden, perfect shadow.

However, for Anthony and for a chance to truly reconcile himself with his mother and the people of Asgard, the only way forward was to challenge and defeat the ancient tyrant directly which, undoubtedly, would mean he’d need far more resources than what he currently had to hand...

“ _Oh-h... oh God... I... think I really... am gonna... blow chunks or... or faint or... something..._ ”

Blinking out of his musings whilst the final, charred remains of the mad-titan’s laky were nibbled into nothing by muted, vermillion embers, Loki turned, his anger draining away to worry as he saw his mortal slowly back away from the clone that’d been shielding him.

“Anthony? What is...”

“Luke... Luke you just... you... did you even _see_ what you did?” the young omega gasped, his shaking right hand pointing to the greasy black smear slowly degrading upon the lavish carpet. “You... you _atomised_ that guy... you... how is that... how _can_ that be possible...” he whispered, his body jerking away when his magic-based doppelganger attempted to reach out to him.

“Anthony, take a breath, you’re as white as sheet... here, let me get you a seat...”

“Don’t... don’t come any closer” the mortal breathed, his golden eyes wild with shock and horror. “You’ve just murdered that, that _thing_ with a smile on your face... you did it without a thought... and it was _screaming_...”

“You do not understand” Loki cut in quickly, a wave of his hand dispelling the clone and making the twenty-five year old all but jump out of his skin: “that thing came here in the belief that he would collect you from me, he was going to...”

“Take me off your hands? Yeah, so I heard...” Tony muttered, his voice hitching as his face and eyes reddened. “What... what the _fuck_ is going on here? I... don’t know what to do... I don’t know what to do...” he close to cried, his face looking directly at the man he loved, thought he loved, couldn’t _not_ love...

“Luke... _Luke_ please...”

Releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, Loki was enveloping his little mate into the strong fold of his arms and the soft, warm drape of his cape before he realised he’d moved.

“Shh... shh now, darling, my darling little rabbit” he murmured into the soft, auburn curls of the shorter male’s hair. “I’m here and you're safe... you're safe, I promise” he said gently whilst taking a deep lungful of the other’s scent, his hands carefully rubbing soothing circles into the omega’s back as the other clung to him, his quaking form slowly calming.

“ _Luke_...”

“Shh” the immortal cooed. “It has been a long few hours, and things have escalated so very quickly” he reasoned before easily scooping the mortal up and into his arms, his hind-brain preening when the younger male offered no resistance but, instead, curled into him with a jarring sniff. 

“Yes, that’s it, close your eyes, my love” he added whilst slowly walking down the corridor and towards his bedroom-suite.

“T’all look better in the morning...”


	7. The past...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: umm... somewhere near the beginning : )
> 
> WARNING! This chapter is rated 'A' for angst and 'T' for teasing author ; )

Carefully tucking his sleeping fiancée into the expansive, luxurious folds of the bedding he hoped to share with him on their honey-moon night, Loki watched him, his face all the younger whilst lost to dreams, before turning away to sit on the Victorian, high-backed chair he’d conjured next to the thickly curtained four-poster bed.

Today had been distinctly _off-plan_ and now, safely concealed in this chamber that he’d sealed off within a secret branch of Yggdrasil which (hopefully) the Mad Titan could not see, he had a range of decisions snaking out before him like a hydra. Each head held teeth and venom which would no doubt burn him; however, for Anthony (and thanks to the smeared remains of his chief torturer seeping into the carpet of his apartment), he would have to suffer the bite of at least one.

‘But which to choose?’ he pondered, his eyes lazily roaming over the softly snoring omega.

‘I still possess _his_ staff which means both the mind-gem and the Chitauri are under my command... well, for the time being at least’ he mused. ‘I could offer the mind-gem to Odin in exchange for a pardon but... no, _no_... I would sooner see the Realm Eternal burn then go back there on my knees like some beggar in rags’ he seethed. 

‘Then there’s Fury and his rag-tag team of buffoons’ he thought with a sneer; ‘mayhaps manipulating them into providing us sanctuary truly is the best idea... getting my _brother_ onside will be child’s play and they already know of Anthony’s innocence... But, of course, there is the matter of Stark and his hatred of me, hmm... no doubt that cunning old fool will have found a way to _actually_ imprison me by now’ his mind added with a huff. ‘Never-mind his tenuous, _biological_ link to Anthony... the longer that I can keep his cold, blood-stained fingers away from my mate, the better...’ he silently agreed with himself, a scowl marring his lips at the prospect of such a reunion. For, as benign as the old, mortal alpha may appear on the surface (his co-founding of Shield a testament to his _righteousness_ ), Loki had looked into his mind when he’d taken control of him during the first invasion. He had felt, first hand, the icy-indifference, the sterile, analytical planes of Stark’s psyche and he knew, unequivocally, that allowing that man anywhere near Anthony and his bright, precious soul, would be disastrous. 

‘And yet I cannot simply sequester us away here until Ragnarok...’ he reasoned before, his instincts unable to resist the temptation any longer, he reached out to caress the sleeper’s cheek; a better man, a _good_ man would allow the omega to leave. A wise man, a man who cared more about his lover would, true to the Midgardian-adage, _let him go_ , for surely no happiness would be found in a life mated to the shunned trickster-god of Asgard.

“But I am not a _good_ man” he muttered, his thumb gently stroking a high-cheek-bone. “I would sooner see all the Nine destroyed before allowing anyone or anything to separate us, my beloved Anthony” he sighed out, his lips pulling into a soft-frown as he looked off into the far-wall. “I fear that, before long, you’ll come to see me as the dragon whom traps you within the tower and not the knight he avows to save you...” he breathed; “Am I fooling myself into thinking that an angel like you can truly love a fiend like me?”

“Heh, angel might be pulling it a stretch...” a sleep-thickened voice responded, the words causing Loki to jerk his hand away; it was caught by quick, clever fingers before he realised what was happening.

“Anthony, I...”

“So, mental break-down thankfully averted...” the omega yawned as he slowly sat up, his free hand rubbing (adorably) at his right eye: “I guess we’ve got a lot to talk about, huh?”

“It would appear so” Loki returned gently, his body eagerly moving when the man who’d be his mate pulled him to sit next to him upon the bed: “do you have anything particular you want to ask me about or...”

“Oh no, mister, you’re going to tell me _everything_ ” the omega stated imperiously whilst moving to plump and bolster the pillows up so that he could lean against them.

“Starting with...”

“ _Starting_ with that thing you just killed, what the fuck it was talking about and how in the hell you got mixed up with him and his boss” the omega instructed whilst crossing his arms, his golden gaze scrutinising the alpha as the raven-haired god let out a deep, weary sigh.

“And if you do not like what you hear?”

“Well, I like _you_ enough that I’m not screaming my lungs out and running around looking for exits, don’t I?” the brunette returned, his right brow raised before, his frown softening, he reached out to rest his right hand onto the braced, white-knuckled fists of his lover. “I **love** you, you silly space-Viking... and sure, what you’ve done on Earth is god-awful _but_ I know you, I _know_ the real you and I’m certain that we can find a way to, well, maybe not set things right... but, together, we can make things _better_ ” he stated firmly, their eyes locking. “You just gotta trust me, trust _us_ and, as my mom used to say, there’s nothing we can’t do, okay?”

“Anthony...”

“No, nope, no big-eyes, you” the younger cut in, his own voice shaking a little. “Now, come on, make with the explanations already” he ordered, his hand giving the other a gentle squeeze.

“Very well” the alpha said, his eyes clearing and darkening whilst he began to call forth memories he’d much sooner forget.

“T’was five years ago and my _brother_ was preparing to succeed the throne of Asgard” he began, his tone low and frigid. “As _usual_ the oaf had won over Odin’s favour and the Realm Eternal was going to pay the price” he reasoned, his eyes briefly meeting Tony’s: “you will only know of Thor through your realm’s media but, I assure you, the Thor I grew up with, the man who he was back then, was a narcissist brute whose hunger for mead was only bested by his lust for battle.”

“So... you intervened?” 

“I felt I had no other choice” the alpha breathed, his face growing a shade or two paler as anger and grief warred for possession of his face: “should Thor have gained the throne at that time he would have doomed us all and, despite popular belief, I did not seek to rule Asgard, my unpopularity amongst the warriors of the upper-classes alone would have made it far too difficult” he murmured, his eyes asking his lover not to enquire any further when his lips started to move. “And so, seeing little alternative, I allowed a handful of enemies to sneak through our defences and into the weapons-vault where our family’s... ah, _Odin’s_ family’s most lethal attack-dog lay in wait... No one would be harmed, the thieves would be despatched and the ruckus would be enough to disturb the coronation” he stated, a wry, regretful smile quirking his lips.

“Unfortunately I had failed to see how Thor would react to the intrusion and, in his anger, he led a troop of his friends and I to the realm from whence the thieves had come... his actions that day started a war which led to his exile here...”

“New Mexico...”

“Yes, that t’was the place” Loki agreed before taking a deep breath, his shoulders slumping under an invisible weight: “and so, Thor’s redemption came in the form of Jane Foster and her kin whilst my down-fall came from learning of my _adoption_ , Odin’s untimely sleep and the giddy thrill of having the throne and Asgard at my feet” he sighed.

“Wait, I don’t get how sleeping and... uhh, what? You’re adopted? But...”

“Please, Anthony, if we could speak on that at another time?”

Blinking, the hurt lacing the older man’s voice causing the shorter man to snap his mouth shut, Tony nodded his head and gestured for the tale to continue. 

“Enthralled by the power-trip and desperate for, oh, I don’t know, perhaps _validation_ is the word to use, I toiled away at a plan that would see my brother trapped upon this realm and our enemies dead before more blood could be shed” he reasoned tiredly. “However, once more all of my clever plotting became unravelled and I became the villain of a story where I’d hoped to be the hero... Then, when Odin awoke and saw the chaos I had wrought he told me that’d all been for nothing, that my actions were to be condemned when all I had done, all I had _tried_ to do, was to save our realm” he breathed, his tone ragged.

“Lu... _Loki_...”

“So I threw myself into the void which cradles Asgard within the Yaggdrasil” the mage continued, his ears deaf to the omega’s sympathy. 

“I expected death to take me, for the cold emptiness to be my tomb for the rest of eternity” he murmured, a flash of panic skating across his eyes.

"I had never dreamed that _he_ would find me...”


	8. A Dark Past Revealed...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1... or somewhere around there : )
> 
>  **WARNING** : angst, torture, flashback and hurt!Loki!

**~*~Flashback~*~**

_The irony of a **frost-giant** feeling the cold truly wasn’t lost on him as he continued his fall, his tired eyes staring blearily at the distant glint of gold that was the Realm Eternal, its beauty still radiant even at such an expansive distance..._

_“My Lady would need to wait at least a week or two to claim the soul you are so casually throwing away, Princeling.”_

_Baulking, his cry lost to the star-speckled emptiness around him, Loki couldn’t recoil from the pain was his body collided with smoother surface of a meteor, the speed of his fall adding further damage as he rolled and floundered to a stop._

_“Pathetic.”_

_Grunting, his numbed form offering little in the way of resistance, the former Asgardian could barely find air in his lungs to breath whilst an impossibly strong hand snagged his hair and yanked him to kneel like a despondent, wretched servant. The indignity was more than he could bear and, as he went to snarl at the creature who’d **dare** to touch him in such a way, he found himself _completely_ unable to as a pair of luminous, purple eyes full knowledge, power and malice stared down at him imperiously._

_The eyes of a Titan... a _mad_ Titan..._

_“Y-you...”_

_“Silence child; you’ll not speak unless you’re spoken to or your rudeness may bid me to change my mind and cast you back out into your fate” the colossal, ancient being stated, his tone neutral and yet full of command that Loki was helpless to obey._

_He swallowed, even attempted to nod and was merely rewarded by the massive hand that clutched him pulling him to a stand._

_“You are Loki?”_

_“Y-yes...”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Yes sir” the raven haired mage breathed, his feet struggling to find purchase._

_“What has transpired up there, upon those sunny branches of the Nine, that has led you to throw yourself from the golden-cradle, hmm? Or, perhaps, you were **pushed**?”_

_“That I was, sir” he rasped, his jaw struggling to work; “ousted from the throne that I had held... cast away from my... **my** birth-right...”_

_“Oh? That look in your eyes...” the Titan murmured, a shimmer of something far to unkind to be _pleased_ crossing his jowls; “I _like_ it” he added, his hand’s grip relinquishing its hold to allow Loki to stumble to a stand, his right brow-ridge arching._

_“You have been wronged, nay, _injured_ by those who’ve only claimed to love you, only _claimed_ to care, is this not so?”_

_“T-tis so, sir...”_

_“You are a fatherless child, lost to time and condemned for only wanting what was yours, are you not?”_

_“Y-yes... yes I am, sir...”_

_“And to be what you were, what you _truly_ are, that is your inner-most desire, is it not?”_

_At the Titan’s words, a thick, sparkling haze of dark-matter tinged with amethyst began to fill Loki’s vision, not that he could tell, not that he could _see_..._

_“Y-yes sir.”_

_“Call me master, **father** , pay me with every last soul of the ones who harmed you, feed them to my Lady, and I shall give you **all** that you desire...”_

_“I...”_

_“Swear to me that I have your loyalty, that your life is given unto me in **my** service, for the pleasure of her Ladyship, and you will be a God-King unlike **any** Asgard or the Tree hath ever seen...”_

_“I...”_

_“Swear yourself, or you shall suffer...”_

_“I swear, sir... I...”_

_“Oh no, godling, tis not as simple as that...”_

_He couldn’t breath._

_“W-ha...”_

_Every nerve ending was _suddenly_ alive with agony, white-hot, blistering, bone-thinning agony... a pain that no words in any of the languages he knew could describe..._

_He was screaming, bleating, howling like some unloved, dying thing; nothing existed but absolute darkness, the vibrations of his cries wracking him in the silence like storm-waves upon a vulnerable harbour._

_This **was** madness, insanity, rage, hurt, life, death... this was what it meant to have your soul torn out, ravaged by a mind and power older than the Nine itself._

_This is what it meant to pledge your allegiance to a being that lusted for death with the same craven carnality a starved wolf hungered for the flesh of all other creatures._

_This was **fear** and every second of it was dragging out and into eternity._

_He tried to cry, plea, beg and sob._

_He scratched at the ground, the sky, his own flesh, the flesh that he _detested_ and screeched until all he could taste was his own blood, his sobs morphing into wild, strangled laughter..._

_And then, just like that, it was gone._

_Blinking, white-noise ringing in his ears, Loki found himself standing, his Asgardian armour gleaming in the light of three unnatural suns which encircled a dais and, upon the dais, his impassive face pulled into a cruelly pleased smile, sat Thanos._

_“Do you swear yourself to me, princeling?”_

_“Yes, sir” he found himself replying, his voice strong, his tone unwavering; “yes, my master.”_


	9. You've Come a Long Way Baby...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: it's out there, true believers ; )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: fluff and cos-play : 3

Blinking owlishly, his mind swirling with a thousand questions, the young mechanic found that, instead of letting his curiosity get the better of him, allowing the alpha some time to breath and relax was the best option...

However, he _was_ Tony Carbonell and, even though she’d tried, not even his mother (endlessly classy and poised) had been able to prevent her omega son from opening his mouth when his inner-monologue got going.

“Holy shit...” he began; “Luk... Loki, you were brain-washed, like, honest to Dr Who goodness, 1980’s cartoon styled _brain-washed_ ” he stated, his eyes shining with righteous indignation. “Jesus... what had to happen for you to be snapped out of it? How did...”

“ _Snapped_ , perhaps, is a word far more apt than you’d think” the God murmured softly, his own gaze distant as he stared off into the room, a painting he’d purchased decades ago suddenly having recaptured his interest.

“Snapped? Wait... do you... oh! You mean when the Hulk...”

“I’d rather not speak on that _creature_ , Anthony” was the swift response, his fists tightening their clutch upon obscenely expensive sheets. “Perhaps now you realise why I, ah, _accidently_ burned those horrid pyjamas you were so found of...”

Gawping, a laugh somehow bubbling up his throat, Tony lightly punched the man’s shoulder, his tone exasperated; “you ass! I _knew_ that couldn’t have been an accident! Your ironing skills would give Martha Stewart a run for her money!” he snorted. “Does this also mean that it was _you_ and not a stray cat, as you’d so innocently claimed, that ran into my garage and knocked over my Avenger’s mug? You know, the one that I stood in line at ComicCon for three hours to have signed by Hawkeye, Captain America and Dr Banner?” he asked, his tone accusatory.

“Would it help matters if I explained that, at the time, I was that very cat and not _completely_ in control of my actions?”

“Bastard!” the omega laughed, his slighter frame wrapping around the leather clad man and pulling him even further onto the bed, his laughter growing when the alpha allowed himself to be moved, his body now lying atop the giggling male, a rare chuckle escaping him at the sight of the other’s pleasure.

“Dare I ask about my action figures?”

“Now that _was_ an accident...”

“ _Luke..._ ”

“I truly did apologise at the time, dear-heart, and I meant it... didn’t I buy you new ones? Hmm?” he cooed whilst leaning a little closer, his smile soft and inviting; “I even dressed up as one of those _ridiculous_ fantasy characters and went with you to the next damnable event where those silly picture books and their creators gathered, didn’t I?”

“You did look _hot_ as Virgil ... I was having to fight all the Devil May Cry fan-girls away from you with my wand” Tony reminisced pleasantly, his tone fond and warm; “I couldn’t believe that you’d done that for me... it was one of the sweetest things anyone has _ever_ done, you know?” he said quietly. “Heh... you remember drawing your sword and defending my honour when a Voldermort wanted to duel me? What was it you said? Umm...”

“So much as _look at_ my wizard and a nose won’t be the only thing you’re missing” Loki declared through a smirk; “and I meant it too...”

“My hero” the omega smiled, his arms reaching up to loop around the alpha’s neck.

“I fear that is a title meant for another” the Asgardian admitted, his expression losing its fondness; “Anthony, I may have been under the effects of the mind-stone at the beginning... but... in these last few years, I have continued to act under the Titan’s rule... I have done things consciously that I now think upon with regret and shame” he admitted through a swallow. “At the back of my mind, I rationalised every death, every piece of destruction as a necessary evil... They were to be lost to the whey-side so that, one day, I could finally acquire the strength needed to best him and, as awful as this will sound, there were times, darker days, when I relished the chaos I wrought, when I was _pleased_ that it wasn’t only my life and dreams in tatters” he breathed.

“Your media is right when they call me a villain...” he continued, their eyes locking; “that is why I’ll not be letting you go Anthony... hate me, revile me, scream at me and try your best to escape but, by the Nine, I won’t be able to let you” he stated, his tone steady in its conviction. “We will be married and continue our life together upon Asgard if you... _umphh_...” 

Blinking, his eyes widening in shock, the alpha met the kiss that was being offered to him, his tongue moving to deepen it as he lay more firmly across the omega whose arms had tightened their grip to ensure that the older man couldn’t pull away. 

“It’s not right of me to say that I don’t _care_ about what you’ve done... Luke or Loki, you _are_ my mate and, whether you like it or not, you’re not the _big-bad_ that you think you are, not completely, not _yet_ ” Tony said, his hands now rubbing trembling shoulders. “I meant what I said before, you know, I _will_ help you... I haven’t got much to offer but, even if it’s just keeping you honest or, at the very least, being the cricket on your shoulder and yelling at you when you make the wrong choice, well, that’s what I’ll do... and I’ll do it as your mate and husband, alright? No eloping to Asgard necessary... not when there’s so much at stake on Earth” he stated, his face serious but not unkind. 

“We’ve got a long way to go, you and me, but we’ll get there... However, the first step has got to be dealing with that huge, purple maniac who’s eyeing up my home-world like an entrée” he reasoned, a smirk tilting his lips.

“So, how do you feel about becoming an Avenger, hmm?”


	10. For you...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: it's out there, true believers : )

“I beg your pardon?”

Chuckling, Tony rolled up and on top of his stunned soon-to-be mate with practised ease, his eyes sparkling with the first glimpses of (what he was sure to be) a kick-ass plan.

“Just hear me out” he began, his body nestling into the older man’s (sadly) clothed lap; “you’re awesome, okay? I’ve seen the news footage and I _know_ roughly what kind of power-outage you’re capable of and, honey, I don’t think your tool-kit can take down that douche yourself, especially if the Chitauri are his minions and not yours...”

“Now you hold on there, brat...”

“Ah, ah, ah...” Tony mocked chided whilst (not so subtly) grinding down, his smirk becoming more devious than the one his future husband was renowned for sporting; “I asked you to hear me out and, unless you _don’t_ want to make use of this beautifully crafted bed, then I’d suggest you keep your nasty comments to yourself and listen” he instructed. 

Somehow suppressing his groan, his hands landing on and messaging the omega’s jean-clad hips, the Asgardian let out a long suffering sigh instead, his lips closing to form a neutral line instead of the displeased frown he’d worn mere seconds ago.

“Now there’s a good boy” the younger applauded, his arms crossing across the tattered band-t (it _had_ been one of his favourites but, as he was finding with his lover, the dust and tears in it would probably render it useless to him now) with an air of superiority. “Now, what was I saying? Oh yeah... you, as an Avenger, now _that’s_ a plan... You could be like, uh, John Constantine in the Justice League... you know, with all the magic and demons and wandering in and out of the team when it suits you” he reasoned through a nod.

“I’m not saying that it’d have to be a permanent thing and _no_ , before you throw it in my face, this has nothing to do with me being one of their biggest fan-boys, okay? You need fire-power, smarts, technology and numbers... now, unless you have Peter Quill on speed-dial or a posse you can hit-up on Asgard, I don’t think you have much of choice here, do you?” he asked, his smirk widening.

“No, I suppose I don’t...”

“And am I or am I _not_ a genius?”

“You most certainly like to hear yourself talk as much as I do when I’m monologuing, dear-heart...”

“ _Hey_ ” the brunette huffed, his hips giving a particularly harsh gyration which had the alpha growling, his hands strengthening their hold; “what did I just say about being nasty, huh?” he reminded with a glare. “Here I am, a _complete_ novice in this Intergalactic Game of Thrones thing that’s happening, coming up with Oscar worthy strategies and you’re just sulking and being ungrateful” he sniffed, a pout forming across his still kiss-reddened lips. “Whatever am I going to do with you, hmm?”

“You may want to shed all of my clothes and punish me for being _naughty_...”

Blinking before sputtering into laughter, Tony couldn’t subdue his giggles even as the older man blushed (a rarity for him) and wrestled him back to the bed.

“I’ll teach you to laugh at me, you little cur...”

“B-babe... p-please! Y-you know... you _know_ you c-can’t do sexy talk with y-your accent... it’s... it’s just _too_ much...” the omega chortled; “ _naughty_...” he mimicked in his best British accent, his laughter doubling in volume when quick fingers started to tickle him in retaliation. 

“G-gah! No! _No_! I give! I give!”

“Oh no, Anthony, I want to hear you _beg_...”

“W-a-hhh! Mercy! _Mercy_ please... I’m begging! I _begging_ already!”

“Mock me again and you’ll be sorry, my tantalising little rabbit” the jade-eyed mage warned whilst (reluctantly) withdrawing his fingers to kneel up between the mortal’s parted legs, the levity of the situation fading as he watched the younger man catch his breath.

Looking down at him, his delicate chest rising and falling at a quickened pace thanks to the breathy giggles he continued to expel, Loki felt an uncharacteristic sensation (which tasted of guilt and smelt like regret) wash across him.

This was his most precious person, of that (until their children were born) he was most certain; how many precious people had he ripped from others? Why did he suddenly care? What should that matter to him, Loki, past and future King?

“Ha! Wow... ugh, I needed that...”

He wasn’t that person, not anymore...

“C’mere you...”

Tony had changed him, altered his perspective, re-set his goals and woken his heart.

He was being pulled down by incessant hands and hungry lips were re-capturing his own.

‘For you, Anthony’ he thought, his arms snaking beneath the omega to hold him close; ‘for you I will _humble_ myself before Thor and accept the... ugh... _aid_ of his companions’ he continued whilst spry legs kicked up to lock about his waist.

‘For you, I will see that tyrant burn...’

Work-toughened hands were roving through his hair...

‘For you, I will make things right...’

They were gasping, grinding, desperate...

‘And lay waste to anything or _anyone_ who tries to stop me...’


	11. Howard Stark...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1.

Howard Stark considered himself to be, above all other things, a practical man. He had a genius well beyond that of any other person alive and, in that vein, saw it as his duty to ensure all of his efforts either went into pioneering new technology for the future or siring an alpha. Therefore, when his wife (not mate, he could never mate with someone who couldn’t prove they were capable of meeting his expectations) had become pregnant and scans found it to be an omega, he’d offered her a fair sum for her trouble and sent her out the door.

And he’d thought that’d been the end of that...

“There’s no mistaking it” Obadiah mused, the pair of them observing the interrogation room’s footage of the spirited omega Natasha had been tracking for the past two months or so; “the DNA scanner can’t be tampered with by any magic that bastard has used on us so far.”

Grunting, his mouth swallowing another healthy slug of whisky, the aged alpha scrutinised the screen; Maria’s eyes, his jaw-line, her smile, his posture.

“I should have known that she wouldn’t have gone through the abortion... what do his records say?”

Huffing out a cloud of cigar smoke, his long time business partner and confidant began to speedily tap away at his StarkPad, the information pushing up next to the currently muted footage.

“Let’s see” he murmured; “Antonio Carbonell, twenty-five, five-foot seven, 138 lbs, omega... mother, deceased, father, unknown... currently employed at Van Dyke Ltd as Chief Engineer of the R&D Department” he listed before letting out a low-whistle. “Seems as though he got more than that lustrous head of hair of yours Howard...hmm, yes, from his High School and College IQ tests it would seem that he got your brains, too.”

Snorting, the alpha slouched a little further in his chair; “what a waste of potential” he stated, his brows furrowed. “Perhaps I should have kept Maria around, an alpha could have been sired later on, after all” he grumbled before taking another gulp from the tumbler he held; “heh, at the very least I could have formulated some kind of hormone blocker, presented him as a beta...”

“Well, it’s never too late” the bald alpha commented with a shrug, his fingers bringing up any and all articles relating to the young man and his achievements, images of his smiling face next to robots, cars and the like peppering the holo-screens that surrounded them within the confines of Howard’s master-office. “Oh, hey... now there’s a surprise” he said, his tone peppered with a laugh as he brought up one webpage in particular; “who’d have thought that _IronMan_ was an omega, let alone your boy... didn’t you fire Swanson because he couldn’t recruit him?”

Blinking before leaning forward in his chair, Howard observed the YouTube page, his eyes narrowing with interest; “I’ll be damned” he breathed as he regarded the gold and red masked vlogger, the video they were watching (still on mute) showing the band-t wearing male dissembling an engine, cleaning it and then _improving it_ within a thirty minute time-slot. “You sure that that’s him?”

“The speech patterns are a perfect match” the slightly younger business man stated; “the whole _mask_ thing makes sense now, I suppose... can’t imagine the big-wigs in the White House being pleased to know that one of the highest paid vloggers of all time is an omega, let alone an omega who can do such things” he commented. “This kind of shit is just what those bleeding heart-liberals and femi-nazis have been looking for to run as propaganda... it’s a good job your boy knows a powder-keg when he sees one... although” he continued, his right brow arched as he looked back to the Shield footage, his grin sharpening. “It looks like he’s just as fiery as his mother was... umm, she’s only recently passed, too... just under a year and a half-ago...”

“And do we know when his interaction with _Loki_ began?”

Humming, his fingers returning to their work after he stubbed out the remainder for his cigar, the fatter man accessed Shield files with an ease that would have Director Fury cursing up a storm; “a year prior to her death and nine months after he first came onto the scene” he said, his frown returning. “The fact that he’s latched himself onto your son can’t be a coincidence, Howard” he murmured, his tone serious and flecked with musing. “If that boy even has a tenth of your intellect at this age then his potential, if nurtured, could be limitless” he furthered, his eyes widening at the thought of it; “it makes me shudder to think what _you_ could do with alien-technology, what could it mean of us if Loki...”

“We won’t let that happen” the moustached alpha cut in; “we still have time... don’t forget that Shield snatching that hen was something that bastard didn’t see coming... his rescue of him was clumsy, uncoordinated and rash...”

“It doesn’t detract from the fact that he has him though” Obadiah sighed out whilst pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, but we didn’t have any way to track or trap him before and now we have both” Howard proclaimed, his hands roughly snatching the StarkPad. “My DNA can be used to search for the boy and, when we find him, we can follow the signal and zap that alien fucker with the nega-beam” he said, his hurried swipes and taps already sending orders to Shield and various other Departments within Stark Industries.

“And what if he’s off world? We know that Loki doesn’t hang around...”

“True, but, thanks to Thor, we know that conquering Earth is one of his primary goals, oh no, that bastard will come back here sooner or later” he ground out. “All of the limited information that Labrador of a God has given me proves that our world is a gateway to Asgard and the rest of the Nine Realms... unhh... if we’re right and Antonio is my prodigy then, in time and with instruction, he could build another portal” he said, a hint of worry lacing his words.

“Jesus” the other alpha muttered, his hands reaching for his own tumbler of amber poison. “I’ll get on the phone to Ross and alert the Secretary for Defence” he promised whilst standing, his heavy set frame groaning with age and stress. 

"Heh, by that smile on your face, Howard, anyone would think that you were looking forward to having this impromptu reunion with your long lost get" he announced, his eyes narrowing.

"But you know me better than that, don't you, Stane?" was the offhanded reply, the olive-skinned man's eyes not once looking up from his scheming.

Snorting, Obadiah shook his head ruefully; "let it never be said that you aren't a practical man of business, Stark" he said glibly; "this little hen of yours looks more like a golden-goose to you, now, doesn't he?"

Chuckling, his smile sharp and pleased, the shorter alpha sent his final message before leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed once more; "would it be so _awful_ of me to black-mail a co-conspirator to genocide once he's abandoned by the mad-god he's spread his legs for? Hmm... I'm pretty sure the press won't see _me_ as the bad guy" he admitted, their eyes locking as they shared a laugh.

"All hail Howard the hero" the grey bearded man said, his glass raising in a toast.

"All hail indeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Voting Time!
> 
> Next chapter... do you want:
> 
> SMUT?
> 
> or
> 
> Story?
> 
> I've got two versions on the go and can't seem to blend them together so, could you lovelies make the decision for me?
> 
> Thanks! : 3


	12. Game-Plan...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see... ugh... somewhere near the front?
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning: sexy-bath-time ahoy! Nothing too graphic (for now) but this does count as anal : 3**

“Okay, game-plan time!”

Huffing at his soon to be husband’s enthusiasm, his fingers continuing to massage shampoo into auburn locks, Loki sighed into the steam building up around them as the younger man started to jot notes onto the tiles with the soap-crayons he’d _demanded_ that the sorcerer conjure for him. 

“Must you fuss so much whilst I’m attending to your hair? And, as I shouldn’t have to remind you, all of this _jiggling_ is doing little to help my _limited_ self-control” he warned, his own hips giving a strong wriggle of their own. 

“Heh, you know that I _always_ think better with you buried deep inside me... it’s a comfort thing and you **love** it, don’t you?”

“I love _repeatedly_ burying myself within you, dear-heart” the Asgardian admitted, swift hands scooping up the errant bubbles which were trying to leave the glossy strands in favour of the omega’s eyes. “This, however, is _torture_ ” he added, his lips pouting when the shorter male simply laughed, the mind-map he was scrawling becoming more developed by the second.

“Well, it serves you right... you can think of this as a punishment for all of the shit you’ve put me through during the last forty-eight hours” the mechanic informed haughtily, his inner walls offering a quick _clench_ that had Loki growling, his forehead thumping into a lightly muscled shoulder.

“ _You fiend..._ ”

“Heh, shouldn’t that be _my_ line?” Tony quipped through a chuckle, his eyes closing whilst he savoured the feeling of being relaxed, stretched almost _impossibly_ wide and surrounded by warm, jasmine scented waters within a brushed-copper bath-tub. “Now, as I was saying” he continued, his red crayon jabbing into the (formerly pristine) white tiles until Loki raised his head and frowned demurely. “ _Here_ is what we’re going to do...”

“ _Oh, must you speak of **doing** when you’ve forbidden me from moving beyond washing your hair and back..._ ”

“Hmm? Oh, don’t you worry baby, you’ll get yours” the olive skinned omega chuckled, another _jab_ with the colourful soap causing the mage to wince. 

“So, step one, we sneak into the Avengers’ up-state New York HQ” he stated, his finger moving to shush the older man when he made to protest; “nah-uh, don’t you start with the whole ‘ _no Tony, that’s a bad idea_ ’, alright? This is the fastest and most effective way of speaking to them directly before Shield or any other outside agencies can interfere...”

“And the fastest way for you to enter the _sacred_ ground of your favourite heroes, _fan-boy_...”

Snorting, Tony awkwardly turned his head to give the alpha his most unimpressed look: “do you _want_ to get laid sometime this century?”

Snapping his jaw closed, his smirk vanishing, Loki muttered a “yes dear, sorry dear”, his fingers returning to their task and safe-guarding against the bubbles which were still trying to head south.

“That’s more like it” the omega stated, his crayon now following the arc of an arrow to the next thought bubble; “okay, once we’re in, we’ll use Thor’s feelings for you as leverage (“hmm, now who is supposed to be the evil-genius in this partnership?”) to stop any immediate in-house fighting and then _bam_ , we hit them with the truth and start working on a plan to take-out Thanos together...”

“You’re joking...”

“No” the omega huffed indignantly; “this is fool-proof!” he stated with a firm nod, his crayon moving to the next _bubble_. “Through them we’ll have access to Stark-Industries, Shield’s fabled alien-tech warehouse and renewed links to Asgard so that we can hit up some of that _sweet_ Space-Viking knowledge as and when we need it” he assured even as Loki groaned, his left hand summoning a pitcher of warm water which he proceeded to dump over his sputtering lover.

“ _H-hey!_ ” the younger coughed, his hands desperately swiping his cleaned bangs out of his face and clearing his eyes; “that was uncalled for!”

“Sorry, rabbit, I just thought that a good dousing would help to wash away that nonsense you were spouting” the alpha admitted with a light shrug; “you most certainly can’t think that it’ll be so easy, so _simple_ , can you?”

“And why the hell not?” the other snipped; “we’ve got a mutual threat here and, whether any of you guys like it or not, they can’t beat him without your knowledge and powers and _you_ can’t take him out by yourself either” he reminded whilst coughing out some excess water that’d ended up in his lungs. “So, unless you can come up with a better plan, this is the one we have to go with, okay?”

“Tony... the second that we enter their strong-hold that _beast_ of theirs will...”

“Now _you’re_ the one talking nonsense” the younger snorted. “That building must be worth a cool-fortune and even if Stark-Industries foots the bill, I’m sure that the old penny-pinchers at the top aren’t going to just throw money at it every-other-day, so do you _really_ think that Dr Banner will go ape-shit just like that?” he asked, his right brow quirked. “Can’t you see that that’s the _only_ assurance we have here? God... meeting elsewhere could lead to ambushes, people getting hurt or, heaven forbid, the shutter-bugs getting wind of everything and blowing our possible alliance all over the press” he said, his tone exasperated. “Ugh... then we’d have _no_ hope of getting a plan of attack together... not that I’m saying your _former_ boss reads the tabloids or anything, but a guy like that must have spies out looking for you by now” he stated with a frown. “And I’m also willing to bet that you going to the Avengers will be one of the last things he thinks of... I mean, the _Loki_ I’ve seen on the news would be too proud to see _’the enemy of my enemy as my friend’_ and he’ll be hunting for _that_ Loki and _not_ the you I know...”

Sighing out, his right hand moving to rub his face, the chaos-mage leaned into the tub’s broad back, his lover remaining in his original position as he stared at the glistening red mind-map; “when?” he asked.

“Umm?”

“ _When_ do we undertake this suicidal venture of yours?”

All but squealing, his body up, turning and impaling itself in swift succession, Loki was soon groaning for very _different reasons_ when the omega pressed down to grind upon the solid knot that’d been painfully building since they entered the bath twenty-minutes ago.

“You mean it?”

“A-ah... yes, of course... what can we not do when we’re together... _oo-oh... do not tease me so..._ ” he close to whimpered.

“Oh baby... I promise you won’t regret this” Tony preened, his hands gripping broad, alabaster shoulders. “How’s about we do that thing tomorrow a.m. and do _this_ thing for the rest of the p.m., hmm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT (proper) next chapter : 3


	13. The Stage is Set...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see... somewhere near the front : 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in this AU, the Avengers Roster consists of: 
> 
> Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, Hank Pym (think Avengers Cartoon), Scott Lang, Sam Wilson, Bucky (recently rescued/de-programmed), T’Challa (the latest addition) and Phil (as the official liaison between the Avengers and Shield). 
> 
> Stark Industries pays for the up-keep of uniforms, equipment and vehicles along with the running of the Avenger’s Up-State Compound (remember the one in the Ultron movie?). 
> 
> Oh, and any dialogue which is underlined, like this, is being spoken within a pocket dimension that only the people within the dimension can hear; _normal_ people cannot see, hear or interact with anyone inside the pocket dimension, either.

Clint Barton was paranoid; this much was as true as it was an understatement...

“Ah, so there you are... Have you slept yet?”

Sure, the majority of people who lived his kind of life-style would be, and for damned good reasons...

“Why is he still up there?”

On top of being a _power-less_ super hero amongst super heroes (of God and monster calibre), he was an omega in a world that thought he’d be better off baking cookies than beating bad-guys...

“Didn’t Mr Stane say he was having those vents shut?”

Not that Clint cared, particularly, about what other people thought, _especially_ if those people were the dickhead alphas who ran the Country or, worse still, the higher-ups beyond Fury who hadn’t liked him being involved in the Avengers Initiative...

“Heh, that wouldn’t help... our little feather-head would probably find a way to crawl back in there, you know, like Luke Skywalker and that camel-lama-lookin’-alien-thing?” 

Those stuck-up, medieval bastards could all go fuck themselves as far as he was concerned...

“Sam, as a long time fan of Star Wars, your lack of respect disgusts me...”

But they weren’t the reason why he was in the rafters (or excess cooling vents if you wanted to be _technical_ about it) of their HQ’s communal area...

“Ah, this _Star Wars_ you speak off... is it too an adaptation of one of mine ancestral tales?”

No, he was there because he was stressed _the fuck_ out and, to his paranoid mind (thank you messed up childhood), being somewhere _up high_ was **safe**.

“Thor, for the last time, Game of Thrones has **nothing** to do with you or Asgard...”

So the poor hen that he’d manhandled was missing and, if the interview with Phil he’d watched over and over again (because emotionally torturing yourself is fun) was anything to go by, then they’d just allowed an innocent civilian to Loki-napped...

“How canst you say such things! They have dragons, _we_ have dragons...”

Or, worse still, Anthony Carbonell was not only innocent in terms of not knowing his fiancées true identity (God of Lies equals effective cover, magic wand equals mind-control and being the universe’s biggest bastard equals finding an omega to exploit and doing it in _fucking_ style) but was now trapped with the _real_ big-bad they’d been fighting for months.

“No more nerd conversations, please, it just isn’t fair if Clint isn’t involved...”

The thought of that omega, just a shade or two younger than him, being tortured (like he’d been) or manipulated (ditto) wasn’t resting well with him and neither was the _wrath_ Loki was no doubt plotting to drop on them since they’d messed with (what he probably thought of as) his property.

“A valid point Nat... hey! Bird-brain! Are you going to come down from there or are we gonna have to lure you out with bread-crumbs and worm-bits?”

“Go fuck yourself, Scott” he called, his eyes glaring at his fellow prankster through the grate; “why don’t you and Pym go use those particles he’s made to grow a pair before you call me out, huh?”

Smirking as his words caused T’Challa (usually so reserved) to snort into his coffee, Nat to roll her eyes and Bucky to soothe a clearly flustered Steve (swearing being one of his ultimate pet peeves), Clint felt his mirth die away when Phil (his rock, his mate, his _everything_ ) locked gazes with him even at over eight feet away.

“The f-f- _hell_ did you just say, tweety-pie!” the brunette (one of the only betas on the team) close to howled as he stomped to stand beneath the grid his quarry was peering down from; “get your scrawny ass down here and I’ll show _you_ who’s got the bigger _cojones_ , okay?”

Grunting, his hands pushing the hinged grate through so that he could gracefully slip into the air (throwing a little summersault in because he _could_ ) to land seamlessly before the more playful of their insect based operatives, Clint poked him in the shoulder, his face thoroughly nonplussed.

“Are you sexually harassing me in the work place, Lang?”

“Are _you_ fucking kidding me right now, _Barton_?”

“It’s Coulson, actually” Phil interrupted, his form coming to stand behind his (now shit-eating grin sporting) mate; “and, if you want to start comparing genitalia, gentlemen, could I please advise you _not_ to do so here? We are all, of course, happy to try new team-bonding exercises but I fear that may be a step too...”

“What!? You talk nonsense Son of Coul! There is nothing more natural in the Nine than to be naked around ones comrades! Here let me...”

“Oh God, Thor _don’t_!” Scott yelped as he and Bucky moved to wrangle the Asgardian; “hey man, look, I’m sorry that I brought it up, okay? So _please_ keep that monster of yours locked up in its leather cage” he added whilst Steve face-palmed, Hank sighed and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Does this kind of _thing_ happen often?” T’Challa asked, his royal form ensconced in a velvet soft arm chair as Nat moved to perch upon the armrest.

“You’ll get used to it” she admitted with a wink and a sip of her beer; “I’m just disappointed that the boys stopped our resident exhibitionist from putting on a show for us” she added, another wink flying a bewildered looking doctor’s way. “I’m pretty sure my mate’s _monster_ would beat his in a fair fight, anyway” she chuckled, her smile becoming predatory when Bruce blushed and the majority of the room started to eye him with looks that varied from shocked to impressed. “I’m such a lucky girl...”

“Okay, folks, this is all going to stop now” Steve close to ordered from his position at the open kitchenette’s breakfast-bar, his hands temporarily stopping in their task of assembling a range of (delicious looking) sandwiches. “Alright then, I want everyone at the dinner table unless you’re helping to carry platters, got it?”

“Yes _mom_ ” several of them called amidst the giggles borne of his affronted look.

“Ha, ha, ha...” the alpha deadpanned; “don’t think that I won’t remember this when it’s my rotation to do lunch again... I’m thinking liver’n onions the way my grandma used to serve it will go down a real treat if you're not careful...”

”Oh my _God_! This is _so much_ better than Jan’s fanfiction about their lives in here” Tony close to squealed whilst Loki (having been forced to ditch his battle regalia for something less _intimidating_ ) struggled not to simply step back through the portal he’d made and leave the omega to his _fan-girl_ like worshipping.

”And they’re _all_ here! And... _wow_ , the Wakandan Prince is like a _thousand_ times hotter than I’d thought he’d be... hey, do you think you can do something that’d stop him from wearing that mask? I mean, it’s cool and all...”

”Anthony-dear, your enthusiasm is doing little to assuage my hatred...”

”Jealousy” Tony cut in, his sneaker clad feet springing him up on tiptoes to plant a kiss against the scowling mage’s cheek before he scuttled, scurried and skittered around the (now vacant) communal area, his smartphone snapping photo after photo.

”Ah! Look at that coffee table, ooh! And this couch! It’s huge! Do you think that they can all fit on there? Wah! Holy shit! This TV is _insane_! Hah! I bet that they get _all_ the channels or maybe they get inside the damned thing and act things out themselves... Oh! Loki, _Loki_ over there! That gaming centre must...”

”Anthony...”

“... be worth thousands! Wow! There’s every kind of game and reinforced controllers and...”

Taking a deep, calming breath (and remember the warm afterglow of their last few hours spent in the tub), the former Asgardian instead turned his attention from the modern, (admittedly) tastefully furnished part of the large chamber to focus on the supping _heroes_.

His mates was right that everyone, Phil Coulson included, was present; when his eyes landed on the young blond happily stuffing his face besides him, the raven haired alpha felt the resolve he’d promised to keep for his own mate’s sake slip slightly.

This wouldn’t go well...

”Do you think you could sneak us into Dr Pym and Dr Banner’s labs?”

”Considering that I want us both to live through today, my answer is no...”

”What?!” the shorter male cried, his arms wrapping around the stiffening alpha whilst puppy-dog eyes flashed their dangerous gaze past long, fluttering lashes; ”please? I’ll do that thing you _really_ like when we go to bed later... ”

”And as wonderful an offer as that is, dear-heart, you’re the _genius_ behind this grand scheme, so shouldn’t you...”

”But we _can’t_ ruin their lunch!” the younger protested, his lips pouting;  ”puh-leese?”

Sucking in a deeper breath, dispelling it and pinching the bridge of his nose, Loki breathed out a very dejected sounding ”this way” before stamping his staff twice upon the floor, the delighted squeal of his fiancée filling the pocket-dimension’s empty void with glee as they descended.

So what if he didn’t live to regret doing this...

”Oh my **God**! It’s so... so _beautiful_...”

For, from the minute he’d met his young charge, the chaos mage **knew** that he’d suffer an eternity of torture for even a second of that laughter...

”Whoa! Come on Loki! You’ve got to see this!”

”I’m right behind you, dear-heart...”


	14. Fateful encounters...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
> 
> Wow... it’s been a while, huh?
> 
> -_-;;
> 
> Again,any dialogue which is underlined, like this, is being spoken within a pocket dimension that only the people within the dimension can hear; _normal_ people cannot see, hear or interact with anyone inside the pocket dimension, either.

“Mr Stark? Pardon the interruption, sir, but the DNA signature you placed on _black-watch_ has been detected within the Avengers Compound; what are your orders?”

Blinking, his keen eyes looking up from the schematics he’d been approving to regard the wall-sensor which linked directly to the A.I. he’d perfected (and greedily coveted; not even _Obi_ had access), Howard slowly leaned back to rest in the plush comfort of his leather chair, a hum singing from his throat.

“I gather, since neither the alarms connected to our _friends_ or Director Fury have sounded, that they are unaware of the boy’s presence?”

“My scans similarly reveal no physical manifestation of the omega designated Antonio Carbonell; however, DNA traces have appeared in the form of trace-hairs and skin-particles which have been picked up by the main laboratory’s air-filters” Jacosta stated; “your orders, sir?”

Grinning, a stretch moving his older (yet genetically enhanced; he wasn’t working so hard to better the future without living long enough to see his efforts realised) joints into action, the genius stood, picked up his blazer and threaded it across his shoulders. “Send for my car” he said, his grin darkening; “if the boy is there then Loki will not be far behind which means, of course, I have the opportunity of killing two birds with one stone” he chuckled. “That hen’s blood may be just the thing I need to remedy my aging whilst Loki, well, analysing his _seidr_ and finding a way to manipulate it to my will should create exponential progress for the _Company_ and our ambitions” he mused whilst walking away from his ornate desk to the parting oaken-doors. 

“Mr Hogan is awaiting your arrival at exit B-2, sir” the AI chimed as he sauntered through the lavish, art-accented hallway; “the nega-beam prototype has also been secured in a level-4 briefcase stored in the secret-compartment as per this situation’s set parameters.”

“Good” the futurist called, his legs virtually skipping down the varnished, wooden staircase, a thrill of satisfaction running through him when the pretty-maids he’d hired (studiously dusting in their particularly form-fitting uniforms) bowed their head to him as he descended into the decadent reception area (Maria, he remembered, had once remarked upon it’s similarity to the home in Gone with the Wind). 

Then, a wink or two sent to his staff for good measure, Howard crossed the stone-dais, spared a glance at the roving, manicured gardens ensconcing his grand-father’s Up-State, New York mansion and smoothly slid into the passenger compartment of his preferred Chrysler. 

“Jacosta, have the boys in Lab C been informed?”

“Of course, sir” the female voice crooned from his StarkWatch; “should either Loki or Antonio Carbonell be effectively detained, they are ready for procedures A through G for the omega and procedures A through D should the nega-beam effectively subdue the off-world alpha” she furthered. “Dr Jenkin’s wishes you, and I quote, _’happy hunting’_...”

***

Tony was the closest to bursting into song (damn it! All of the stage-dames he’d been raised with had been right!) as he’d ever come; there were machines, experiments and equations going on around Hank Pym and Bruce Banner’s shared and separate work-spaces that made him want to _demand_ that Loki summon-up a camera for him to use.

“Oh wow! Look at _that_! ”

Particle accelerators, super-computers and electromagnetic quantifiers everywhere...

“Ah! And there! What _is_ it?! ”

Advanced-robotics and real, _functioning_ nano-tech along with synthesisers of every kind...

“Wow! Multi-verse theory! Black-hole and worm-hole research! Gah! I can’t _even_!!”

It was magical, beautiful, rapturous...

“Can we leave now?”

Blinking, his euphoria stuttering to a stop, Tony turned a scathing, caustic look towards an incredibly bored, spear-inspecting Chaos Mage, his slender form (somehow still graceful regardless of the layers of armour atop his long-coat) leaning (not slouching; he was Prince, after all, and Frigga would be furious) against the lab’s main entrance.

“You _what_?!”

“Anthony, darling, I thought the whole reason for our visit here was for you to watch as that _master-plan_ of yours fall flat on its face whilst the assembled _heroes_ you worship attempt to bludgeon me to a bloody pulp? ”

Blinking, the venom he was about to spit (this was _his_ Disney-Land, God-damnit!) dying on his tongue, Tony stopped and (for once) allowed the information to filter through his brain before talking (he was in love with the guy and so, as opposed to anyone else, actually _listening_ was a luxury he’d afford the alpha).

Huh...

“You’re that worried?”

“Feh! Do not use such words around me” the other snapped, his head jerking away to observe a particularly interesting Petri-dish of _something_ on the counter to his right. 

“Oh... Loki, hey, hey look at me... I’m sorry, alright?” he said, the urge to face-palm growing stronger as he remembered that his Luke, his _Loki_ had been in _actual_ bloody, bone-breaking fights with his idols.

Idols who weren’t, he needed to remind himself, going to be thrilled about seeing _him_ in their hyper-secure, future-proofed base, let alone the God of Chaos they’d been unsuccessfully battling against for so long.

“Okay, come on then, let’s get this over with...”

“There is really no way to talk you out of this lunacy, is there?”

“Heh, what can I say, you’re marrying a mad-man... hmm, or should that be _my_ line, huh? ” the omega tried to chuckle, his sneaker clad feet whisper-quiet upon the gleaming, sterilised floor; “we can do this” he insisted. “Remember? There’s nothing we can't do if we’re doing it together, right?”

“Tch, you even sound like _one of them_ ” the older huffed, his eyes narrowing before, with a sigh, he pulled himself away from the wall and stood.

“And no glow-stick-of-destiny, okay?”

“What?” the alpha baulked, an incredulous look flitting from his sceptre to his mate; “surely you jest? You can’t expect me to stand before my enemies...”

“Potential _allies_ , Loki-kins” Tony reminded with a meaningful glare of his own; “showing up here is one thing _but_ showing up armed with alien-magic-tech is quite an other... you know? It doesn’t really send the whole ‘ _we come in peace_ ’ vibe, does it?”

“Then why send any vibes at all, I wonder?” the raven haired male muttered whilst turning (purposefully not looking at his mate, he couldn’t bear to see that expectant, hopeful expression) and making his way towards the fire-escape they’d used to descend undetected.

Watching him go for a moment, Tony took a deep breath, sent a little prayer to his Mama, held his head up higher and marched after the man he loved, the man he was going to help and support and spend the rest of his life with.

He could do this; he was a Carbonell.

***

“Ah! Another fine meal, Steven! You and young James there will have fine, healthy get with you in the kitchen!”

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly (and choosing to ignore the curses rising from his mate whilst Clint, Scott and Nat poked fun at him), the first Avenger took a sip of his water before reaching for and snagging the last sandwich (a voice which sounded suspiciously like his mother chirping proudly since there was no food going to waste).

“Thank you, Thor” he replied after a bite; “and speaking of _get_ , are you going to bring Jane for another visit any time soon?”

“Verily” the older blond stated, his smile dazzling as he thought of the plucky, intelligent femme he’d met upon his first visit to Migard in over a thousand of their short-years; “ah, I would prefer to have her with me, of course, but my time here is just as valid, especially since mine brother and his forces seem determined to disrupt the peace once more” he sighed. “Do you think he _loves_ that hen, as he claimed?”

“I’m sure that _omega_ ” Clint interjected, his right brow quirked whilst Thor sheepishly ducked his head in apology; he didn’t quite understand the human term of being _politically correct_ but he understood a look of annoyance when he saw one: “is just another victim of your brother’s schemes” he snorted. “Hell, and it’s just my luck that I treated the poor kid like shit before we sent him to Fury... fuck, he’s probably been chopped up into little bits by now...”

“Be careful of what you speak” the thunder-God cut in, his expression now stormy; “for whatever his misbegotten crimes he is still a warrior of Asgard and my kin... to accuse him of such vile, base acts is a gross and terrible thing” he warned.

“Excuse me?” Clint challenged, his own eyes narrowing. “We talking about the same guy here? The one who sure, hasn’t _outright_ killed anybody that we know of for shits and giggles _but_ he sure the fuck doesn’t care about his monstrous little pets wrecking people, place and lives” he snapped. “When he first came here, probably following _you_ , I might add (“Clint, don’t...”), no Nat, it’s true” he added, his scowl darkening. “Do you remember what he did to me? The collar? Stripping me of who I was? But I got off easy, didn’t I? The other six Agents he took-over were injured to the point of early-retirement and really, Thor, I don’t care who he is, what happened in New York during that first invasion was...”

“A miscalculation on my part, I admit...”

Yelping, every Avenger was on their feet (Nat, Bucky, Phil and Clint grabbing for pistols hidden under the table) with Scott and Hank reaching for their nano-tech devices to cloak themselves as Antman and Yellowjacket respectively.

Standing, his body only encased in the first layer of armour (no helm, no gungnir), Loki smirked and let his hands raise in a placating gesture before, with a huff that had the whole room stiffening, the omega they’d started discussing materialised besides him, his right hand pinching his nose.

“Jesus you are bad at this” he muttered whilst shaking his head, his golden gaze moving from the now (carefully neutral) no longer smirking God to the collective of heroes; “umm, hey, sorry... he’s, uh, not so great at making good first impressions” he stated through a nervous chuckle as the Avenger’s pinned him with looks ranging from shocked to exasperated.

“So, hi, I’m Tony and... umm, could you _not_ point that gun at my face?” he asked, his head tilting to the side (not unlike a puppy) even as Thor rounded the table to stand (not too closely) between his Midgardian shield-brothers and the little hen brave enough to approach them.

Loki always did have fantastic taste in partners.

“Hey! What are you doing! They’re...”

“Just wanting to talk” the youngest of the room cut in, his head peeping past the brawny blonde’s bicep; “please, I realise that this isn’t ideal and that all of you, with good reason, would rather do this with him locked up...”

“Or on a _slab_ ” Clint spat nastily.

“Yeah, or that” Tony admitted before they locked gazes; “however, you _do_ owe me a solid for bruising my arms and damn-near giving me and my employer a heart-attack, so could you just, you know, hear me out?”

“Five minutes” his fellow omega agreed, his gun’s line of sight never ebbing; “and if I don’t like what you’ve got to say, I start shooting, deal?”

“Deal” the brunette accepted, his utterance met with a scoff from behind him; at his glare, Loki merely snorted, muttered something and looked away again.

Watching on, many of the heroes struggled not to baulk openly whilst Thor, clearly elated, allowed a smile to eat up his face.

It really was a shame that the door-bell rang _just_ as the young mechanic was about to start...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there : )
> 
> So, how have you been? 
> 
> Sorry for such long breaks between updates! I will finish all of my stories, I swear!
> 
> And on that note, I think it was on this fic that someone asked me why I have characters call omegas "hens", well...
> 
> It just, kind'a, stuck, I guess?
> 
> Also, chickens and genders/egg laying is quite a complex set-up; there have been cases where chickens have swapped genders (quite unexpectedly), the hen can lay unfertilised eggs (which is what we eat) that, and they're cute, fluffy/one of the world's favourite meats... You know, a weird delicious-tasting animal turns into delicious-desirable metaphor?
> 
> Furthermore, (by Jove) I'm British and a lot of our endearments are associated with birds in one way or another... so, there you go?
> 
> ; 3


End file.
